


The Godiva Proposition

by Natalie L (nat1228)



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 11:03:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/797978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nat1228/pseuds/Natalie%20L
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair participates in a stunt to earn money for the local food bank.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Godiva Proposition

Many thanks to Semper, who provided the picture that tickled my imagination, and to Marion for bringing up the idea of writing stories to go with the picture to present to the 2009 Moonridge Auction. My thanks also go to Alex and Marion for the beta of this story. Couldn't do it without you!

Originally published in The Sensual World 6 zine by MKASHEF Enterprises, July 2009.

  
[ ](http://s263.photobucket.com/user/nat_1228/media/The%20Sentinel/godiva_title.jpg.html)

* * *

"Ahem!" Simon Banks stood in front of his closed office door. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I need your attention." He waited until every head had lifted and all eyes were trained upon him. "I have just gotten off the phone with Police Chief Warren. As a part of the Cascade Police Department's annual food drive, Chief Warren and the Mayor have discussed having the PD do a special fundraiser in addition to the usual public appeal. 

"What they have suggested is that each unit within the Department stage their own special fundraiser. The unit that brings in the most money for the food bank will be rewarded with a special dinner with the Mayor and Police Chief at the Starlight Lounge. So, does anyone have suggestions for what Major Crime might do to earn this honor?" 

"How about a dunk tank?" Detective Johnson suggested. "We could get all the Captains, and maybe Chief Warren and Mayor to sit in the tank." 

"No way, Johnson!" McCleary shot back. "Why would the other Captains want to help Major Crime? They'll have their own fundraiser going." 

"Good point," Simon agreed. "Any other ideas?" 

"A talent show," Joel Taggert suggested. "There's got to be enough talent here to pull it off." 

"I wouldn't be so sure." Rafe looked dubious. "I've seen some of the 'talent' this group has, and nobody would fork over good money for it." 

"Does anybody have any _original_ ideas?" Simon asked. 

Henri Brown looked up from the gold-embossed box of Godiva chocolate truffles that lay on his desk, a gift from his current girlfriend. "We could have someone from Major Crime ride a horse naked through the town, like Lady Godiva." He expected a guffaw and a quick axing of the idea, but was surprised by the response. 

"We could use Little Stogie for our horse," Joel suggested. "And our Godiva could ride around the race track." 

"The horse would need to be white," Henri argued. "Godiva rode a white horse." 

"I know of one white horse," Joel said thoughtfully. "I'll talk to the trainer and see if we might be able to get the use of it for one ride." 

"It would be appropriately symbolic, in a way," Blair chimed in. "Godiva was a patron of the arts. She wanted the people of Coventry to be able to appreciate art as well, but the heavy taxes imposed on the people by Leofric, her husband, kept the peasants working from dawn to dusk just to pay the taxes and meet their very most basic needs. So Godiva petitioned her husband to lower the taxes. She pestered him for so long that he finally gave in saying that if she were to ride naked through the center of the busy marketplace at midday, he would lower the taxes on the peasants. Surprisingly, she agreed and, making certain of her husband's permission to do so, rode through the market at midday in the year 1057. Leofric was so impressed with her bravery and piety that he not only lowered the taxes, he removed all but a tax on horses that had been in place since before he had been granted the title of Earl of Mercia and the right to impose taxes on Coventry by King Canute." By the time Blair had finished, a general buzz had gone up in the bullpen. 

"Godiva wanted to do something to help those less fortunate," Blair continued, "and that's what we're trying to accomplish by raising money for the local food bank." 

"But who would we get to ride the horse?" Megan Connor asked. "I can't imagine anyone wanting to help enough to 'bare it all' for the cause." 

All eyes had turned on the only woman in the room. "Wellll...." drawled Henri, "other than Rhonda, there's pretty much only one possibility...." 

"Oh no...!" Megan put up both hands, palms out, and shook her head. "You're not getting me to ride starkers around a track. No way! Pick somebody else." 

Jim, who was standing behind Blair at the time, got a wicked grin on his face and pointed toward his partner. 

"Blair!" Joel said, his own grin spreading. "The perfect choice! Great idea, Jim!" 

"You'll take one for the team, won't you, Hair Boy?" Henri chimed in. 

"I'll have to clear the idea with the Police Chief," Simon said, while Blair was sputtering and turning to glare daggers at Jim. "He might frown on the nudity." 

"I haven't said I'd do it!" Blair interjected. 

"We could have the ride closed; only people over twenty-one can pledge and attend, and only people who have actually paid get to participate. No spouses or dates, unless they've paid as well," Rafe suggested, talking over Blair's objection. 

"Listen, I--" Blair tried again, only to be interrupted again. 

"I might be able to make that fly," Simon agreed. "I don't think it should be highly publicized, though. Word of mouth will have to do, due to the sensitive nature of the performance." 

"I think we should make a minimum pledge," Megan said. "Since Sandy has to expose himself in front of a crowd, I don't think that anything under $100 should be accepted." 

"We could have a tiered system, with those paying more getting a better seat for the show," Henri suggested. "A $500 donation could get a front row seat." 

"That might bring down the number of people who could donate," Simon said slowly, "but on the other hand, with the stakes so high, we wouldn't need too many people in order to still win this competition. I'll see what I can do with Chief Warren." 

"I'll check up on the horse," Joel added, picking up the receiver on his desk phone and beginning to dial the track. 

"But I...." Blair continued to sputter. "I haven't said that I'd _do_ it yet!" 

"Of course you'll do it," Jim said, wrapping an arm around his upset Guide. "It's all being set up as we speak. You wouldn't want to let down the entire Major Crime Unit, would you?" 

"I'll get you for this, Jim Ellison," Blair threatened, stalking out of the bullpen and heading for the stairs. 

Ten minutes later, Simon emerged from his office once more, a big smile lighting up his face. "We've been okayed for the stunt, so long as we take appropriate precautions," he announced. As a roar of approval rose from the bullpen, Simon looked around and commented, "What happened to Sandburg?" 

"He wasn't too happy with the way things were going," Jim answered with a grin. "He went out to get a little fresh air and 'walk it off'." 

"You make sure he's on board with this," Simon told his friend. "Otherwise, this idea is scuttled before it even gets off the ground." 

"Don't worry, Sir, I'll talk to him," Jim promised. 

~oO0Oo~ 

"What the _hell_ were you thinking?" Blair fumed as he paced the hardwood floor of the loft that evening after work. "Now I have to ride _naked_ around the race track in front of who-knows-how-many strangers? You _know_ how private I am about my body! We were lovers for a month before I let you have sex with me with the lights on!" 

"Sorry, Chief," Jim said, coming over to stop Blair's pacing and embrace the flustered man. "To me, you're the only one worth paying to watch. I've got my $500 already set aside." He placed a chaste kiss on Blair's forehead, feeling the heat from the florid skin beneath his lips. "Besides," he added, "if I remember the story of Lady Godiva correctly, despite her nudity, she retained her chastity and her dignity. No one thought the less of her for what she did. In fact, it's been nearly a millennium since her ride, and we still remember her name." 

"Yeah," Blair mumbled into Jim's shoulder. "I suppose so." 

"You'll do it, then?" 

Blair looked up at Jim and firmed his resolve. "Yes, I'll do it. But I'm doing it for a _cause_ and not so that a bunch of voyeurs can get their rocks off. You'd better make damn sure that there's no teasing when this is over. If I hear one joke about ... anything ... hell's going to freeze over before you'll get any more sexual favors from me." 

"I hear you, Chief ... Blair...." Jim gave his partner one last hug and then turned toward the kitchen. "I guess I'm on kitchen duty tonight, and dinner won't make itself." 

"I'm going to go take a shower," Blair said, stalking off toward the bathroom. 

_I've screwed up big time this time,_ Jim thought to himself. _I suspect Blair will be making me pay for this the rest of my life._ A small smirk stole across his face as he imagined a naked Blair astride the white horse. _But it will be so worth it!_

~oO0Oo~ 

The day of the ride arrived and the race track was packed with paying customers. The Mayor had even consented to be Master of Ceremonies at the event. 

Blair stood in the stable wearing only a pair of sweats, his arms wrapped around his shoulders in a hug. "I don't know if I can do this, Jim. Did you see how many people are out there ... including your brother, Steven, and your dad? The place is practically full." 

"Word got around," Jim said, shrugging. "It's amazing how a little leak can become a flood if the conditions are right." 

"I didn't know there were this many perverts in Cascade," Blair muttered. "We'll have our work cut out for us when this is over." 

"These are law abiding citizens, Chief. They're contributing to feed the hungry, remember?" 

"Yeah. Sure. Right." Blair scuffed his feet in the straw on the floor, not looking up at Jim. 

Simon came around the corner accompanied by Joel, Herman Franklin--the trainer--and Snowball's Chance in Hell, the white thoroughbred on loan from Davis Winchester, the owner. 

"It's almost time," Simon announced. "Are you ready, Sandburg?" 

"As I'll ever be," Blair answered morosely, looking up at the huge horse that was devoid of all tack except the bridle and reins. 

"All right," Jim said, taking over. "Everybody out. You can stay, Herman," he added quietly. 

"See you at the track!" Joel said, slapping Blair on the back as he passed. 

"Good luck--to both of you," Simon said, feeling the strain between his two best men. 

As soon as they were alone with the horse and the trainer, Jim turned to Blair. "This is it. Time to get on with it." He held up a large blanket to screen Blair's disrobing. Once his partner was undressed, Jim draped the blanket over Blair's shoulders. "This will be over before you know it." He noted the racing of Blair's heart and regretted his impulsiveness in suggesting Blair make the ride. Oh well, it was too late to back out now. 

Herman brought over a short, three-step ladder to make it easier for Blair to mount Snowball's Chance. Once on the horse, Blair pulled the blanket tight around him. 

Herman took the reins and began to lead the horse out of the stable. As soon as the assemblage got first sight of the horse and rider, a cheer went up. 

"Remember," Jim said as they made the long procession out to the track, "sit tall, look straight ahead--not at the crowd--keep the pace steady and sedate, and keep repeating your mantra." 

"I'm doing this to feed the hungry," Blair muttered. "I'm doing this to feed the hungry." 

"That's right," Jim encouraged. "This is just a few minutes out of your life. It'll be over soon." 

They had reached the starting gate and Jim walked Snowball's Chance through the open Number 10 stall, farthest from the inner rail. Gently pulling the blanket off Blair's shoulders, Jim draped it over his arm and started the long walk around the dirt track. "You can do this." 

Snowball's Chance walked calmly behind his lead to the roar of the crowd. Blair sat straight and tall, despite his wish to curl up and disappear; his long hair flowed over his shoulders, blowing in the slight breeze that raised goose bumps all over his body. The friction of his privates against the horse's coat caused an unwelcome reaction, but Blair found his incipient arousal was quickly squashed by the growing pain in his backside and between his legs as the horse's movement rubbed against the delicate skin. 

They made the first turn, and Jim led Snowball's Chance along the far side of the track, away from the hungry eyes that watched Blair's every move. Blair kept his gaze straight ahead, not giving the crowd, or Jim, even a momentary glance. The ride seemed to be taking forever. Blair couldn't remember a more protracted bout of pure humiliation ... and he'd seen his share. Finally, they rounded the final turn and were headed to the finish line. 

The crowd was cheering and hooting. A number of catcalls and whistles reached Blair's ears, but he only had eyes for the finish line where the Mayor waited for him. He finally crossed the line after a ride that had lasted a full twelve minutes. Jim walked him into the winner's circle, where the Mayor was waiting with a blanket of white carnations to drape over the horse's withers. After the presentation of the flowers, Jim was allowed to hand the blanket up to Blair, who gratefully wrapped himself in its warmth and concealment. 

The Mayor stepped up to the microphone to make the announcement of the amount raised for the food bank, and the winner of the PD's internal contest. 

"Ladies and Gentlemen of Cascade.... On behalf of the Horn-of-Plenty Food Bank and the Cascade Police Department, I want to thank you all for being here. This year's fundraiser has been an overwhelming success. We have collected 2,853 pounds of canned and nonperishable food, as well as an astounding $53,942 in cash contributions--over half of which has come from this ride of Cascade's own 'Lady Godiva'--Blair Sandburg! Given the overwhelming amount brought in from this fundraiser alone, I pronounce the Major Crime Unit as this year's contest winner." The Mayor turned to Blair, who still sat atop Snowball's Chance. "Congratulations for your contribution to Cascade's food bank, Mr. Sandburg. Few would have had the guts to do what you did for the sake of the hungry." He turned back to the crowd. "I think we all owe Mr. Sandburg a round of applause and our deepest thanks." The Mayor began to clap and soon the entire crowd followed suit. 

"It was nothing," Blair spoke into the microphone thrust into his face. "I'm sure anyone would have done the same, if asked. If I can do this to help feed the hungry, think of what we can all do together!" He smiled at the crowd, his self-consciousness gone now that he was sufficiently covered. 

Once back at the stable, however, Blair found that dismounting was harder than he thought. Jim caught him as he slid from the horse's back, but Blair nearly collapsed as he was set on his feet. 

"You okay?" Jim asked, concerned about his partner. 

"Oh God ... I have awful saddle burns," Blair gulped. "Just get me home, Jim. Please." 

"Don't you want to get dressed first?" Jim asked, holding out the sweats. 

Blair shook his head. "No ... oooohhhh.... Just get me home." 

~oO0Oo~ 

Jim opened the front door and stood aside to let Blair limp inside. 

"I'm going to take a shower," Blair said, heading for the bathroom. "I need to get rid of this horsey smell." 

Jim followed, sidling past Blair to reach for the liquid hand soap on the sink. "Go ahead and take your shower as usual," he instructed, "but use this on the abrasions. Just squirt a little into your palms and work up a lather. Don't use a cloth, it will hurt too much. It's important to get the area very clean - we don't want any horse hair or dirt imbedded that might lead to an infection. This is antibacterial, so it should help prevent any future problems. When you're done, come on upstairs and I'll finish taking care of you." 

"Uh, okay ... thanks." Blair gave Jim a small grin, leading the Sentinel to believe that he just might be forgiven for this debacle if he continued to be sympathetic and helpful. 

Jim reached into the medicine cabinet for some Aloe Vera gel and an antibiotic ointment, then turned to leave. "See you upstairs." 

Blair stepped into the shower and let the water sluice down his body, rinsing away some of the aches and pains of the day. He reached for his shampoo and began to lather his long, rich curls. The scent of vanilla filled the bathroom. Blair had begun to use the scented shampoo when he saw how Jim reacted to anything he brought home with a strong vanilla scent. It seemed to act almost like an aphrodisiac on the Sentinel. He followed the cleansing with a vanilla-scented conditioner and imagined what Jim's reaction would be when he got to their bedroom. Not that Blair felt in any way like he was going to be ready for a sexual encounter. At the moment, everything "down there" was just a little too sore to contemplate more action today. 

He rubbed some of the antibacterial soap in his hands and then began to gently scrub his dick and balls, followed by his thighs and butt. The lather was actually soothing, taking some of the burn from the abraded areas. The hot water was soothing his muscle aches, but he had to tone it down to warm to rinse his privates. Finally done with his shower, he stepped out and toweled off; then, wrapping a dry towel around his waist, Blair made his way slowly up the stairs to their shared bedroom. 

"How do you feel?" Jim asked, patting a pillow he'd placed in the center of the bed. 

"Better," Blair admitted, sitting on the edge of the mattress. 

"Drop the towel and put your butt on the pillow," Jim instructed. "I'm going to take care of you." 

Blair climbed into the center of the bed and propped his buttocks on the pillow as instructed. He let his legs part, and sighed at the feel of the cool air caressing the burning sores. 

Jim knelt between Blair's spread knees and coated his hands with gel. "This is Aloe Vera," he told Blair as he smoothed the soothing substance over the angry red skin. "It has healing properties and, well, it just feels good." 

"Oh God, yesssss...." Blair's voice was a soft hiss of pleasure as the cooling gel touched his skin. 

"We'll let that be for a while," Jim said, sliding up Blair's side so that he lay alongside his lover. "It will be absorbed in a few minutes, then we'll follow it with an antibiotic ointment. Meanwhile, I have some apologizing to do." 

"You sure as hell do...." Blair's statement was cut short as Jim captured his lips in a searing, hungry kiss. 

Jim straddled Blair's body, careful to avoid putting any pressure on sensitive areas as he continued the tongue dance with his lover. Fingers tangled in the still-damp hair, releasing more of the delicious scent that was affecting the Sentinel's control. He left Blair breathless, gasping for air as he moved his lips to lick and suckle Blair right tit. His right hand slipped down from the damp tresses to tug gently on the silver ring piercing Blair's left nipple. The act always sent bolts of arousal directly to Blair's cock. Jim could feel the organ filling, stiffening, and standing up behind him. He tugged on the ring once more, and Blair groaned, writhing beneath Jim, all thoughts of discomfort abandoned as arousal mounted to its peak. 

Jim's palms were flat against Blair's chest, massaging circles through the dense bush of hair, rubbing delightfully over taut nipples, slipping down Blair's ribs, counting them out one by one with fingers tuned to the slightest tremor of the beloved body. Blair shuddered and groaned again, his throat beginning to tighten as waves of arousal washed over him, stealing his conscious thought. Jim leaned down for another kiss, stifling the cry that tore from Blair's throat as his orgasm peaked and semen shot toward the ceiling, to come spattering down on Jim's back. 

As Blair relaxed beneath him, Jim slipped off and crawled around to squat between the spread legs once again. Blair's spent cock lay limply across his belly, his breathing slow and even. 

"I'm going to apply the ointment now," Jim said softly, responding to Blair's barely-there nod of agreement by gently massaging the salve into the delicate skin of Blair's inner thighs and ass cheeks. He also treated Blair's scrotum and penis to a similar massage, even though the abrasions there were mercifully much less severe. When he finished, Blair was very nearly asleep. 

Covering Blair's naked body with a soft blanket to ward off chilly drafts, Jim went downstairs to take his own shower. When he was finished, he went to the kitchen and began to poke around, looking for something that he could prepare for their evening meal. Blair wasn't going to feel like coming downstairs again tonight, so he needed something they could easily eat in bed. There was some leftover lasagna in the freezer. Nuke that with a little bit of toasted garlic bread on the side, and they'd have a meal fit for two kings. 

~oO0Oo~ 

The next morning, Blair came downstairs dressed in baggy boxer shorts and a T-shirt, a robe hanging loosely over his shoulders. Jim greeted him with a breakfast of eggs and toast, and a message from Simon. 

"Simon said to congratulate you again, and to thank you for contributing so generously of your time and 'talent'." 

Blair snorted. " _He_ wasn't the one who had to ride naked in front of nearly two thousand spectators! He can talk!" 

"Well, he granted us both the rest of the week off. He suspected, without my even having to say anything to him, that you'd need some serious recovery time. He also said," Jim continued, staving off another of Blair's comments, "that there hasn't been any gossip about the nature of your ride anywhere in the department. Just comments on how brave you were to attempt such a stunt, and praise for the amount of money your ride brought in to the food bank." 

"That was good of him," Blair said crossing the room to the dining table. "I really don't think I want to put on anything more binding than boxers for a few days." 

Jim pulled out the chair for Blair to sit, and the convalescent nearly choked on the laughter that bubbled up from his chest. "What the hell is _that_?" he asked, pointing to the brightly colored child's inflatable inner tube water toy on his seat. 

"I didn't have a donut pillow," Jim started to explain. 

"But you had _this_?" Blair asked, pointing to the makeshift cushion. 

"Don't ask," Jim cautioned. "Just be grateful." As Blair lowered himself onto the donut, his sigh of relief was enough for the Sentinel. Jim knew that he had made the right choice. "After breakfast, how about we go back upstairs and put some more aloe and ointment on those sore spots?" 

"Are you sure that's all you plan to do?" Blair asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. 

"For now, Casanova. I've got some errands to run. The pantry is getting a little low. You could come with me if you're feeling up to it." 

Blair sighed. "As much as I hate being cooped up in the apartment, I really don't feel like putting on more clothes right now," he admitted. 

"I think I'll stop by the bullpen on the way home and ask Simon about the dinner at the Starlight with the Mayor. He didn't say when that would be." Jim took a bite of his breakfast and watched with satisfaction as Blair devoured his like a starving man. 

Wiping his mouth on his napkin, Blair commented, "I have an idea about that; maybe you could pitch it to Simon and Major Crime for me?" 

Jim nodded in agreement as Blair explained his plan. "I like that!" he said, grinning. "And you know, I think I could sell it to the guys, too. Good idea, Blair!" 

~oO0Oo~ 

Jim decided that it would be a better idea to stop by the police department before his shopping, rather than after, especially since he'd be pitching Blair's plan to Simon and the bullpen. No one even bothered lifting their head as Jim strode through Major Crime on his way to Simon's office. 

"Come in!" the Captain called in response to the rap on his door. "Oh, hi, Jim. I wasn't expecting to see you today." 

"I wanted to stop by and ask if you'd heard about when our victory dinner is scheduled." 

"Blair wondering if he's going to be able to make it?" Simon asked with a grin, taking a puff from the stogie he held between two fingers. 

"Yes ... and no," Jim began. "If we go then, yes, he'd like it to be a few more days so that he'll feel comfortable coming, but the thing is, he's got this idea...." 

Simon's grin grew and he slapped the desk in approval. "Yes! That's a wonderful idea and the perfect way to finish off the fundraising for the food bank. Now, all you have to do is sell it to the entire unit. Think you're up to it?" 

"I don't know, Sir, but I'm willing to give it a try," Jim answered. 

The two men stepped out of Simon's office and once again the Captain cleared his throat to get the bullpen's attention. "Ahem! Listen up, Jim's got a proposal for all of us regarding our dinner with the Mayor." 

"Thank you, Captain," Jim began, nodding to Simon for the introduction. "But this wasn't my idea, it was Blair's. He's still feeling a bit sore, so he asked me to bring the idea to you. This is it: Instead of all of us dressing up in monkey suits and evening gowns for a swanky dinner with the Mayor, why don't we each invite one homeless person to take our place and enjoy a special meal courtesy of the Cascade PD?" 

"At the Starlight?" Joel asked, looking concerned. "They have a dress code there, don't they?" 

"Blair has that covered, too," Jim said. "He once tutored the son of the head chef at the Starlight. The man owes him a favor, since his kid passed with the highest grade in his class. Blair is certain he can get the restaurant exclusively reserved for _one_ night, and the dress code lifted." Jim spread his arms in appeal. "Think what this would mean to, what, twenty ... twenty-five homeless people? A special night in a swank restaurant.... Something they've never experienced and may never be able to again. If it's too hard to choose the individuals, we could conduct a lottery and draw names. The idea is to let the people who _need_ a good meal, have one. 

"As compensation, Blair and I have agreed to host a party at our place. Pizza is on us, but it's BYOB--bring your own beer.... We'll have a table or two set up for poker, and the TV is available for those who would like to hang out and watch sports. What do you say?" Jim looked around, waiting for the men and women of the unit to make up their minds. 

"I think it's a great idea," Henri said. "I vote that we do it." 

"I second it," Rafe piped up. 

"Third!" chimed in several of the detectives, including Joel Taggert. 

"Everyone in favor, raise your hands...." Jim said, looking around at the forest of arms that shot up in response. "Opposed?" Nary a single hand. "The motion passes! Simon," Jim asked, turning to the Captain, "would you please inform Chief Warren and the Mayor of our decision?" 

"I'd be happy to do that," Simon said, clapping Jim on the back. "Say hi to the kid for me when you get home. Tell him that we appreciate his ideas." 

"Will do. Thanks, Simon!" 

~oO0Oo~ 

By the night of the house party, Blair was feeling healed enough to pull some soft sweats over his boxers and don a T-shirt to make himself presentable. The guests began arriving at 7 PM and didn't leave again until after 1 AM. Jim and Blair were both exhausted as they climbed the stairs to the loft bedroom and began to undress. 

"You going to do the ointment again tonight?" Blair asked hopefully. 

Jim shrugged. "If you want for me to. I think the skin is healing well enough now that you don't really need it anymore." 

"But it feels so good," Blair said, lying on the bed and positioning a pillow beneath his hips. 

Presented with his lover sprawled in such a provocative pose, Jim felt his own libido begin to swell ... and that wasn't all that was inflating.... He reached into the night stand drawer to get the battered and used tube of ointment. He squeezed some on his fingers and began the gentle massage of Blair's inner thighs and butt cheeks. He couldn't help but let his index finger trace the tight pucker of Blair's hole, teasing the muscle to allow his finger to slip inside to the first knuckle. Blair moaned. Jim caressed Blair's balls, rolling each testicle between his fingers, feeling its size and weight before moving on to give his attention to Blair's growing cock. 

Jim wrapped his fingers around the circumference of the tumescent organ, stroking from base to tip, rubbing his thumb across the head, which had turned purple with the volume of blood and leaked a clear pre-seminal fluid. Blair squirmed under the attention, fists digging into the sheets as he bit his lip to contain his screams. Finally, unable to contain himself any longer, Blair pushed himself into a sitting position, effectively removing his genitals from Jim's attention. 

"I can't stand this anymore!" Blair's voice was rough and gravelly. "I've put up with you teasing me night after night, morning after morning. I still don't feel ready to be the 'catcher', but if you want to play ball, I feel well enough to 'pitch'. What do you say?" 

"Batter up!" Jim laughed and pulled himself up alongside Blair. After a tender kiss, full of the love and longing he felt for this man, his life partner, he asked, "But do you feel up to it tonight? It's late and I thought you were tired." 

"So did I, when we first came up here," Blair agreed. "But you managed to get the adrenaline running through my system, and now I don't think I'll be able to sleep until I can burn off a little of this extra energy." 

"If you say so." Jim shifted to his elbows and knees, butt thrust toward the ceiling, waiting for Blair to mount him. 

Not one to turn down such an obvious invitation, Blair crawled around behind Jim and gripping the Sentinel's hips firmly, he positioned himself for a slow entry. His cock was lubed with the pre-come that had leaked generously during Jim's attentions to it. He slipped easily inside the willing body; Jim trained to relax his muscles through many a Sentinel testing session. Once comfortably sheathed in the heat of Jim's body, Blair reached around to wrap Jim's cock in his fingers and pull. 

The Sentinel groaned when his aching cock was tugged, and concentrated on his breathing exercises to keep himself from coming too soon. Blair's hand fisted him with a classic rhythm that had every fiber in Jim's body thrumming with pleasure. When the rod filling him began to move as well, Jim was unable to stifle the cry that escaped his lips. 

"That's it," Blair leaned down to whisper in Jim's ear. "Open yourself up to the sensations. Feel the textures as I move inside you. Feel my hand on your cock, stroking ... stroking.... Good, Jim. Turn up touch another notch ... two.... That's it. That's good." 

The constant litany of his Guide in his ear only added to the Sentinel's pleasure. Jim loved it when Blair took over, guided their lovemaking, claimed his body with hard, rhythmic thrusts. He could feel the pulse of Blair's heart beat through the throbbing of the organ that was pounding his body into the mattress. The friction was just enough ... enough ... nearly there ... to send them both toppling over the brink at the same instant. 

The loft rang with their cries of completion. Blair collapsed on top of Jim and was soon snoring softly. Jim rolled over and eased Blair off his back. Grabbing a couple of moist towelettes from the night stand, he wiped them both clean of the semen spatter, then pulled the blanket over them both and settled down to sleep. 

~oO0Oo~ 

Monday came all too quickly, and while it no longer hurt Blair to get dressed, he was still reluctant to go in and face their friends in the bullpen. He was still fretting and nervous as they reached the doors to Major Crime. 

"Calm down, Chief," Jim said softly, resting a hand on Blair's shoulder. "You haven't done anything wrong, and if even one of those idiots says something off-color about your ride, they're going to have to answer to me." 

Blair took a deep, calming breath and then followed Jim into the bullpen and over to their shared desks. 

"'Morning, Jim ... Blair," Joel greeted them with his usual smile. "Enjoy your time off?" 

"As much as possible, given the circumstances," Jim answered so that Blair wouldn't have to. 

"Thanks for throwing the party. I think the idea of letting the homeless eat at the Starlight was a great idea, and I enjoyed being over at your place more than I would have if I'd had to dress up for a fancy dinner." 

"You got that right, Taggert!" Henri agreed. "Nothing tops pizza, beer, and poker in my book." 

"Jim, Blair, my office please," Simon summoned the pair. Once they were inside the office and the door closed, Simon came to his point. "The Mayor and Chief Warren were insistent on doing something special for the two of you, considering the success of the food drive. Did you hear how the event at the Starlight went?" 

"No, Sir," Jim answered. "We've been pretty isolated the past five days." 

"Well, the owner of the Starlight heard about Blair's proposal and he liked it so much that instead of limiting the number of homeless to the number of detectives in Major Crime, he opened his restaurant from 6 PM to midnight. The word went out to the soup kitchens and shelters, and over the course of the evening, the Starlight served over two hundred dinners to the needy. They got to come in, select from the regular menu, and be waited on like paying customers. It was quite a huge success. The owner has made it clear that he wants to repeat his generosity once a year in connection with the PD's annual food drive." 

"That's _wonderful_!" Blair was beaming with happiness, his discomfort at coming in that morning all but forgotten. "Everyone needs a little dignity, and sit-down restaurant service, at a five-star restaurant no less, is a far cry from the local soup kitchen--but God bless the soup kitchens," he added quietly. 

Simon stretched out his hand, presenting an envelope to the two men. "Courtesy of the Mayor and Chief Warren," he explained. 

Blair took the offering and slipped his thumb under the flap, tearing open the envelope. Inside was a gift certificate for $100 to the Starlight Lounge, made out in both Jim's and Blair's names. 

"Whoa! That's a bit much, isn't it?" Blair asked, looking up at Simon. "I mean, we didn't ask for any kind of compensation...." 

"I know," Simon replied, grinning, "but they insisted that you two, at least, be treated. Maybe Blair would be willing to reprise his ride next year -" 

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! No way. No." Blair crossed his arms over his chest, closing himself off, and shook his head, his mane of curls flying. "I am _not_ riding naked on a horse again. Ever. Not happening. Find someone else." 

"It was just a thought," Simon mused. "Too bad." He picked up a folder that was lying on his desk and handed it to Jim. "Three fire-related deaths--looks like arson and possibly homicide. I need you on this ASAP." 

"Yes, Sir!" Jim acknowledged before leaving the office followed by Blair. "Looks like things are getting back to normal," he commented to his partner as he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. 

"Just another typical day in Cascade," Blair replied with a relaxed grin. Shrugging back into his coat and shouldering his backpack, he followed Jim to the car. 

* * *

End 

The Godiva Proposition by Natalie L: nat1228@comcast.net  
Author and story notes above.

Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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